Zayn talked the entire drive home. Little stories only a three-year-old could invent, dragons made of cotton candy, a shopkeeper who looked like a superhero, a puppy that "winked" at him. He giggled and babbled, his tiny hands flying everywhere as he explained.
And Charles…He listened.
With the patience of a man who wanted to store every second, every sound, every expression inside his heart, because he never had moments like these with Kairo. Not when Kairo was this small. Not when he desperately needed a father.
There was a soft ache in his eyes as he watched Zayn play with the paper crown on his head.
On the other hand, Kairo was at home, worried, restless, pacing with every passing minute. Pacing like a madman. He checked the clock. Checked the window. Checked his phone. Rechecked the window.
Sara sighed. "Why are you acting like Zayn went to war?"
He didn't reply. Didn't even look at her.
So she marched toward him and slapped his butt lightly, making him glare. Then she grabbed his cheeks and squished them, purposely annoying him for ignoring her.
"Uummm… leave me, baby…" he grumbled, annoyed.
"You're being a brat again," she said. "How dare you ignore me? Is your son more important than your wife?" she added dramatically, a tiny pinch of jealousy slipping through.
He looked at her, exasperated. "Don't start now. I'm not ignoring you. I'm just worried about Zayn. It's almost night, and they're still not here."
"They're on the way, idiot. Calm your ass down," she said, already done with his drama, a little mad herself.
He sighed, settling on the couch. When he looked at her, her face was blank, clearly a little mad. He reached out and pulled her by the hands. She glared and jerked away.
He only smiled…and pulled her harder this time, making her fall right onto him.
"Leave me, asshole," she protested, trying to get up. But he wrapped his arms tighter around her.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing her cheek softly.
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Don't talk to me."
He chuckled. "I said sorry."
"I don't want your sorry. Also you. Go to hell." She pushed off him and stood.
He laughed and immediately pulled her back, this time rolling her beneath him on the couch as he leaned in closer. She shoved his face away, which only made him giggle.
He trapped her hands and pecked her lips, quick, teasing. She wiggled beneath him, trying to escape, but it was useless with his weight pinning her gently.
He kissed her again. And again.And then properly, slowly, and claiming.
She took her chance and bit him.
"Ow—!" he yelped, pulling back with a laugh.
"Don't be too wild, baby," he teased, licking his lips where she bit him.
She glared at him.
He only smiled. "I love you."
"And I don't," she shot back, still annoyed.
He laughed softly. "Are you jealous again?"
"Why would I be?" she replied with a straight face.
Her expression made him chuckle even more. He leaned in and kissed her forehead… then her cheeks… then her nose, showering her entire face with gentle kisses until her irritation slowly melted.
Finally, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a heated kiss. He smiled against her lips and kissed her back with equal fire.
When they pulled away, he gave her one last tiny peck and whispered against her skin,
"I love my soda glass more than anyone in this world. She's every breath I take."
His voice was teasing, but gentle, soft enough to wrap around her heart.
"So my soda glass doesn't need to be jealous of anyone," he murmured. "Not even her own child."
"I was not jealous," she tried to defend herself.
He chuckled and kissed her lips again. "I know, baby."
She finally broke into a small laugh.
"Well… maybe a little," she admitted.
His smile softened. He kissed her again, slow, warm, grateful.
And then they heard a car horn outside. Kairo's head snapped toward the door instantly.
"I think they're here," Sara said.
He was about to run to the entrance, but she quickly grabbed his hand. He looked at her, restless like a worried puppy.
"At least wait for them to enter before you start your lecture," she warned.
"I'm not going to lecture him," he argued immediately. "I just want to make sure Zayn is okay. What if he got hurt? What if some stranger bothered him?"
"He was with your father, not a random stranger," she reminded.
"That doesn't matter. Dad is a stranger, too!"
"Kairo…" she sighed, done with his overthinking.
He got up, pacing toward the living room just as the door opened.
Charles stepped inside, holding Zayn in his arms, plus several shopping bags in the other hand. Zayn was giggling, proudly holding a little paper crown he must've gotten from one of the stores. His tiny face was glowing with excitement, the kind that only a magical day out could give a three-year-old.
And Kairo's whole world froze at that sight.
"Dada!" Zayn squealed happily.
Kairo stepped forward at once, impatience and relief crashing together. His heart melted the second he saw his son. He quickly took Zayn from Charles and began checking him from head to toe like a man inspecting a priceless treasure.
"Are you okay, baby? Did you eat something weird? Did he make you run too much? Why are your shoes dirty? Did you fall? Are you hurt? Why—"
Sara pressed her hand over his mouth.
"Let him breathe, baby," she scolded gently.
Zayn giggled and stretched his little arms around Kairo's neck, hugging him tightly. Kairo wrapped him up instantly, holding him like he'd been gone for years.
"I missed you so much, my love…" he whispered into his hair, voice fragile.
Zayn pulled back, patted his father's cheeks with his tiny hands, as if he was calming his father down, and kissed him.
"Zayn, miss you too," he said in his soft baby voice.
Kairo giggled. Even Sara and Charles couldn't stop their smiles at the cuteness.
"I had a lot of fun! I ate ice cream, and many more… Grandpa is very nice!" Zayn announced proudly, ready to share every detail of his adventure.
"I knew it," Kairo said immediately, narrowing his eyes. "I knew it. He would spoil my innocent child." He sent Charles a deadly glare.
Sara slapped his shoulder lightly.
Charles chuckled. "Relax, I didn't give him any junk food. It was just one scoop of ice cream."
"One scoop is also too much…" Kairo muttered under his breath.
Sara slapped his arm again. He looked at her with a dramatic frown, offended like a scolded teenager.
"Please sit, Dad. You must be tired," she said warmly.
Charles smiled and handed her the shopping bags.
"These are for Zayn."
Sara smiled brightly. "That's so sweet of you, Dad."
She took the bags without hesitation.
Kairo's eyes narrowed as he watched the mountain of gifts Charles had bought… and how easily Sara accepted them.
Because when he did, she used to scold him for buying too many gifts, saying he was spoiling Zayn.
Kairo squinted at Charles, suspicious as ever.
"What are you trying to do? Why are you being so nice? Are you trying to win over my wife and child? If yes, then don't. I won't allow it."
"Kairo," Sara hissed, sharp and warning.
But Charles wasn't offended at all.
Instead, he looked at Kairo. Really looked at him. Something soft and heavy flickered in his eyes… a kind of regret mixed with pride.
"Your son is wonderful," Charles said gently. "Just like you."
Kairo blinked.
"And you…" Charles paused for a moment, as if gathering the right words.
"…You're doing a good job."
The room went still.
Kairo's eyes dropped to the floor, something unfamiliar and painful tightening in his chest. A feeling he hadn't let himself feel in years.
"I know you're being a good father to Zayn," Charles continued quietly. "And I'm proud of you."
Kairo's heart thudded, too fast, too loud. His throat tightened, eyes stinging with emotions he never asked for.
Sara gently squeezed his arm, grounding him, steadying him.
Charles stepped toward Zayn, his expression soft. He ruffled the little boy's hair with quiet affection. "Thank you for today, champ. Grandpa had a lot of fun."
"Zayn too!!" Zayn beamed, face glowing with happiness.
Charles laughed, leaned in, and kissed his cheek.
Zayn giggled and kissed his cheek back.
Sara smiled at the sweet exchange.
And Kairo…
He watched silently, something heavy loosening inside him, something old and painful shifting.
Then Charles looked up at him, with calm sincerity.
"I'll come next week," he said gently. "Only if you allow it."
Kairo's gaze flicked to Zayn clinging to his paper crown… Then to Sara, who smiled softly…And finally, back to Charles, briefly.
A long, loaded pause.
Finally…
"…I'll think about it," he muttered.
But the room already felt lighter.
Charles smiled, a small, relieved, almost grateful smile.
"Fair enough."
He turned to leave, but Sara stepped forward softly. "Stay for dinner, Dad."
Charles's expression warmed.
"Thank you, darling. But next time. I'm already full."
Sara nodded with a gentle smile.
He took a few steps toward the door, then paused. His shoulders lifted slightly as if gathering courage.
And when he spoke, his voice was quieter, fragile in a way Kairo had never heard.
"Kairo…"
A breath.
"I'm trying…" he paused again. "...to be a good father. I hope… I'll get a chance to be one."
Kairo's heart lurched. His throat tightened painfully, a storm rising in his chest he wasn't prepared for.
Beside him, Sara noticed, her hand gently touched his back, grounding him with silent warmth.
Charles didn't wait for a reply. He simply gave a small nod to himself and stepped out of the house.
Leaving Kairo standing there… with the weight of years sitting heavily on his heart.